


Lightning in a Bottle

by DontSqueezeTheCharmie



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cmbyn sequel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 11:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontSqueezeTheCharmie/pseuds/DontSqueezeTheCharmie
Summary: Armie and Timmy meet with Luca to discuss the sequel: the aftermath.





	Lightning in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been fretting about the sequel to CMBYN for awhile now. This is therapy for my own personal angst. I hope it helps some, doesn't harm anyone. 
> 
> Thank you to @onlyastoryteller for looking it over and giving me invaluable edits. 
> 
> Also, happy birthday to Luca!
> 
> Thank you for reading! xoxox

Lightning in a Bottle

A late summer evening, London, 2019

Three men exited the restaurant and stood under a nearby streetlight, talking quietly in the moonlight. The air was cool and damp; the possibility of a rain shower threatening the night. A mood of sadness seemed to permeate the group. The men spoke for only a few minutes before the oldest of the three, a dashing gentleman with a short beard and soulful eyes, said his goodbyes, giving his two friends a quick peck on both cheeks. They watched as he climbed into a nearby waiting towncar, then the taller man turned and spoke to the other.

“I need a drink. What do you think, Timmy? Should we grab a night cap?”

The younger man, Timmy, shrugged with uncertainty. He wanted to shake off this melancholy, but he wasn’t sure if numbing himself with alcohol was the best approach. He had had great hopes for this night; unfortunately, it hadn’t turned out at all how he had expected. However, he _was_ still with Armie, and he didn’t want to waste that. It was so rare that they were in the same city; even rarer that they were alone.

“Sure; we can go back to my room. We could pick up something to drink on the way? Or we can just raid my mini-bar.”

The taller man, Armie, laughed. “Mini-bar, it is! There’s something about those tiny bottles that always cheers me up.”

The booming bass of Armie’s laughter lifted Timmy’s spirits enough for him to venture a small smile in the blond man’s direction.

“Just watch how much you drink. I don’t want to have to babysit you again, like I did in Paris.”

“Oh, you little shit! You were pretty fucked up, too, so don’t even pretend that you were taking care of me!” 

Armie draped a friendly arm around Timmy’s shoulders and squeezed, then pushed him away. Timmy sighed with relief that Armie had briefly returned to his habit of casually touching and teasing him. It felt, for a short moment, like the old days.

They walked the three blocks to the hotel in amicable silence. It was late, and the lobby was blessedly deserted. Timmy called for the elevator, while Armie stepped to the side to phone his wife and let her know that he’d be late. The elevator door slid open just as he was hanging up.

“Liz says hi,” he said, as they got on.

Timmy forced a tight smile to his face. “That’s great; tell her I’m sorry I missed seeing her this trip.”

“What time do you leave tomorrow?”

“My flight back to New York leaves at 1 tomorrow afternoon.”

“You must be so happy to finally be going home.”

Timmy nodded quickly. “Oh my god, you have no fucking idea. I mean, I don’t want to sound ungrateful. It’s been such an incredible experience. But I am really ready to sleep in my own bed.”

Armie chuckled. “Believe me, Tim, I can relate.”

“At least you’ve had Liz and the kids here for a lot of your shoot,” Timmy said, trying to sound pleased about this fact.

Armie just stared at Timmy for several beats. “Yeah. At least there’s that.”

At that moment, the elevator dinged and the door slid open. Armie stood aside, sweeping his arm in a welcoming motion. “Beauty before age.”

Timmy rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he said with a fond grin.

Once in the room, Armie busied himself investigating the contents of the mini-bar, then making them both a strong cocktail of bourbon and soda. Timmy changed into his favorite sweats and a t-shirt.

“Do you want some comfortable clothes to wear? I’ve got a few big sweatshirts that could fit you….”

He threw a variety of promising items at Armie, who went into the bathroom to change. This act didn’t escape Timmy’s notice. A few years ago, the two of them thought nothing of changing clothes in front of the other. But they had barely seen each other in the last year; things were different now. There was no denying or escaping it, especially not after tonight.

When they were both finally situated, sweats on and drinks in hand, the boys settled onto the large couch that took up one entire side of the suite. They sat at opposite ends of the couch; Armie’s long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle; Timmy leaning against the side arm of the couch, facing Armie, with his legs tucked beneath him. They both took long sips of their cocktails in silence, waiting for the other to speak. The time had come to address the elephant in the room, as unpleasant as it would be. Finally, Armie broke the silence.

“So, you were disappointed by Luca’s decision.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

Timmy didn’t respond right away, but stared sullenly into his glass. Those few words from Armie had brought back his intense feelings about what had transpired earlier at the restaurant. Timmy was scared that if he tried to speak before he was ready, he would simply burst into tears. Armie could see the war he was fighting with his emotions; the battle playing out across Timmy’s face. His mouth twitched, his nose crinkled, he blinked several times. Finally, he seemed to have himself under control. He took a deep breath and spoke.

“Weren’t you?” Despite his efforts, his voice cracked when he spoke.

Armie was suddenly at Timmy’s side, facing him with one large hand on Timmy’s knees.

“I’m disappointed to not get to work with you and Luca again, but you know I’ve had my doubts for a long time about the possibility of this sequel happening. There are so many things that needed to happen- the perfect script, the right timing, the cast being available. And Luca had to agree. Really, it’s always been up to Luca. But he doesn’t think it’s a good idea….and maybe he’s right.”

At this pronouncement, Timmy’s eyes begin to water in earnest. “I know you’re both probably right, Armie. I mean, _MAYBE_. But I’ve been holding onto this for so long. It’s kept me going through a lot of shitty, lonely times, knowing that eventually, we’d all work together again. That we could have what we had in Crema again.”

Armie inched closer to Timmy, tugged his legs out from under him, then pulled them onto his lap. His face was a mirror of Timmy’s: wretched and sad.

“But that’s the thing, T. We won’t ever have what we had in Crema again. It was lighting in a bottle. You can’t capture something that special twice. You just can’t.” 

Armie’s heart felt like it was being yanked from his body, stomped on, and thrown into the trash bin. Because, really…that’s all he wanted, as well. And he knew it was an unattainable dream. He drew Timmy into a hug, needing the comfort as much as he wanted to give it.

_If only Timmy knew: he would give almost anything to go back to that summer and relive those days. Armie had known that they were special when he was living them, but only _ _in retrospect had he realized how truly rare the experience was. The reciprocal openness and trust he felt with Luca; the camaraderie he had with the cast and crew; the days exploring the region on bikes, and the nights having hours-long dinners at Luca’s villa. His summer of romance in Italy._

_But, most of all, it was his time with Timmy that he missed the most. The instant intimacy they had shared. The non-stop laughter and teasing. The easy physicality of their relationship- if they were together, they were touching. It never became sexual…not quite. But it teetered on the precipice more than once. How could he not feel something sexual towards this kind, smart, stunningly gorgeous boy that he was required to kiss on a regular basis; whose smooth, naked body he had had pressed against his own for hours? So many nights, while they were hugging goodnight, Armie had felt Timmy’s interest in more pressing against him. He never gave into the temptation, but he would go back to his own apartment and think about it. And sometimes act on those thoughts, privately, with his own body. But he never crossed a line. Like Oliver, he was good, and he was proud of himself for being good._

_All through Timmy’s stay at their house during his filming of Beautiful Boy, then during their never-ending press tour, Armie had remained good. Yes, sometimes he would flirt a little too obviously, stare a little too long, hug a little too tight. But the line in the sand remained drawn and intact. Timmy and Armie had never spoken of the line- where it was, what it meant. But Armie always suspected that Timmy would have crossed it, if given permission._

_After the press tour, they saw each other less and less. Timmy’s star ascended in the Hollywood sky; he became very sought after, by producers, directors, and his rabid fan base. They still facetimed and texted, but the time in between each contact steadily grew._

_Armie told himself that he was relieved. He needed the time and space to work on his marriage and career. But his heart broke a little every time he saw a picture of Timmy with Lily-Rose, or even Timmy with other friends who weren’t Armie. Eventually the days between their calls and texts became weeks, then sometimes even months. They were both busy working actors; too busy to maintain a steady friendship with a co-star from a movie that wrapped three years ago._

_Armie still loved Timmy, Luca, and his memories of Crema. But he had slowly become jaded. Maybe it was all just a fever dream. The lessons he had learned, the person he thought that he had become…they were becoming hazy, unsubstantial, not-quite-real. His real life- stylized, overly public, and gray- was with Liz._

Or so he thought, until he had a sobbing Timmy in his arms, in this hotel room in London, on this very dreary night in August, 2019. The sound of Timmy’s crying was literally breaking his heart; he couldn’t handle the pain. He pulled Timmy onto his lap, and wrapped his strong arms around his lean body, feeling the heat of Timmy enveloping his heart. Timmy burrowed his head into Armie’s chest; his tears seeping into t-shirt. He didn’t care at all; the only thing he cared about was comforting his hurting boy.

“We could have it again, Armie. I know we could!” Timmy hugged Armie tight, and allowed himself a violent sob into Armie’s chest. He then mumbled something too low for Armie to understand.

“Tim, I didn’t hear what you said. Will you say it again? Please?” Armie asked softly.

Timmy lifted his head, his wet, miserable face only inches from Armie’s, their eyes locked in shared emotion. “I said…I just miss you so much.”

They stayed that way for several moments, Armie unable to look away from the pleading beauty of Timmy’s emerald eyes. Suddenly, Armie felt something break inside of him. A dam opened, a barrier that he had so carefully erected way back in Crema, to keep his feelings for this otherworldly boy contained, protecting his heart from the pain that was certain if he were ever to be with honest himself about how he truly felt. The structure that had stood firm and strong through so many tests- emotional, physical, and sexual- finally gave way when faced with the tears and pain of his Timmy. Armie felt it crack, and with it, all of his resistance. He breathed out a great sigh of love, longing, helplessness, and pain.

“I’ve missed you, too, Timmy. More that you’ll ever know. Fuck, more than I even knew.”

Timmy laced his arms around Armie’s neck. Armie could feel the pounding of his heart through the thin fabrics of their t-shirts; their chests pressed together as Armie held Timmy on his lap.

“Really?” Timmy asked in a small, hopeful voice.

Armie couldn’t stop himself as he leaned in, drawn to Timmy’s pink, wet lips, his mouth still open and breathing heavily from his crying jag. Timmy sniffled, and Armie brought up a thumb to wipe away the last of the tears staining his face.

“Oh, Timmy. I miss you every fucking day. How do you not know that? Even when we go weeks without talking, I’m thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing. Hoping that you’re ok…hoping that you’re with someone who makes you happy.”

Armie delivered this short speech with some resignation. He had laid his feelings on the table; it was up to Timmy how to respond. He felt Timmy’s eyes burning into him.

“I’m ok, usually....but I’m not with the person who makes me the happiest.” Timmy bit his bottom lip, looking young and uncertain.

“Who is that? Who makes you happy, Timmy?” Armie whispered. He needed to hear Timmy say it.

“You, Armie. No one makes me as happy as you do.”

Armie nodded his head; that’s what he needed to hear. Now, he was done. He was fucking done.

He took Timmy’s head in his hands, pulled him in close, and finally did what his heart had been yelling at him to do for three long years. He pressed his lips, soft but insistent, against Timmy’s eager mouth. He held him tight, trying to make up for months of regret and missed opportunities.

The kiss remained chaste for the first few moments, each enjoying the almost forgotten taste and feel of the other. But then Armie pushed his tongue into Timmy’s mouth, their tongues sliding together as their kiss deepened, becoming fevered and urgent. Timmy gave a pleased moan. Their hands began to travel up and down each other’s bodies and their breathing grew heavier. Armie’s body responded powerfully to the feeling of Timmy in his arms and in his mouth; he pushed up and started to move his hips against Timmy.

Suddenly, Timmy stilled and pulled away, panting heavily. “Wait, Armie. We shouldn’t be doing this. What about Liz?”

He looked guiltily into Armie’s eyes, dark with lust, silently begging for Armie to find the words to make this all okay. But the silence that stretched between them told him that there were no such words to excuse what they were doing.

“Timmy, I’m…I…” Armie seemed to be at a loss. He turned away from Timmy, who slid off of his lap, back onto the couch.

“You’re right,” he started with a sad sigh, “I have these strong feelings for you, and I want you so badly. But fuck…Liz is a just few blocks away with the kids, and I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Timmy leaned his head against Armie’s shoulder and spoke quietly. “It’s okay, Armie. Really. I know how you feel about me now. And you’re right- what we had and what we _still _have is lightning in a bottle. No one else will ever understand it except us.”

Armie leaned a cheek against the top of Timmy’s head and took his hand in his own. “I love you, Timmy. I have some shit to figure out, but don’t ever forget that I love you.”

Timmy chewed on his lip, thinking and nodding to himself, before answering, “I love you, too, Armie…come on, let’s watch a movie and get our minds off this crazy night.”

The boys switched on the hotel room television and found a showing of Animal House. They crawled onto the bed, Armie holding Timmy tight in his arms. They watched and laughed until Armie had to return to his own hotel room a few hours later. He hugged Timmy goodbye longer than he should have, and in his mind, he thought: this. This is everything. They may never have Crema or Call Me By Your Name again, but he could still have Timmy, if he was brave, and if he fought for him hard enough. And if Timmy still wanted him. 

Someday soon.


End file.
